Mountain Sound
by bkreed
Summary: Pre-quarry, post-breakout. The Peletier family have virtually no idea what is going on, but Carol will protect Sophia to her full ability.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, all! New story, right here. It's mainly Carol's day's pre-quarry; before the Atlanta group, but after the outbreak. I'm aiming for it to be around three chapters, but may come down to just two. Please enjoy! The introduction is just a little preview of Sophia's birth and how she met Ed.**

* * *

Carol Cooper was twenty years old when she met Ed Peletier. She couldn't even remember how, and now, she didn't really care. All she remembered was he swept her off her feet within the first ten minutes of conversation. They had married six months later. Their marriage had started off pleasant, until 'work' involved bars and booze and 'dates' involved Carol leaving the restaurant two hours later, by herself, with an apologetic, week smile to the waitress.

The sex had been rough and quick; Ed only cared about his pleasure. The only reason Carol went with it was for the possibility of a child. She'd had two miscarriages; Ed blamed her the first time. The second time he didn't console her, didn't do anything. So when the doctor told Carol she was pregnant for the third time, she prayed to God for the baby's life.

God listened.

Nine months later. Age 33. August 4, 1998. Sophia Peletier was born without the presence of her father. He'd shown up the next day, walked into the room. There were balloons from her parents, baby clothes from a few friends. Ed was empty handed. He'd looked at her, nodded.

"Finally."

And they left. Sophia Madeleine Peletier – named after Carol's grandmother – was asleep in her carrier. Balloons were popped, presents were nestled into the seats of their car. Ed and Carol drove in silence.

* * *

The obnoxious long tones droned out the minor clamor that filled the Peletier household. Carol paused in the clanging of pans, Sophia abruptly ended the conversation with her mother about her homework. Ed was lounging on his couch; the television flickered from whatever show he was aimlessly engrossed in and he cursed at it. Carol cringed. The longest tone resounded in the room. Ed changed the channel, disgruntled, only to sigh when the dial continued through each station.

"_This message has been initiated by National Alert and Warning Authority. The Federal Emergency Broadcast system has issued an alert for the United States of America. A deadly pandemic has broken out. Refugee centers are located in many major US cities including the following: Los Angeles, Salt Lake City, Dallas, Atlanta, and Nashville. Remain indoors unless moving to a center and do not come into contact with anything suspicious. The Federal Emergency Broadca—"_

Ed flipped off the television as it began to repeat in anger, slamming the remote onto the table beside him. Carol and Sophia both jumped at the sudden noise. Ed hauled himself off the couch.

"I need a smoke." And he left the room, down the hall to the back porch. A shaken Carol was left alone with an equally nervous Sophia, who had abandoned her long division to stand warily by Carol after Ed left.

"Mommy, what was that?" she asked, broad hazel eyes captivating. Carol pulled Sophia closer to her, tufts of light brown hair chafing against Carol's burgundy shirt. Sophia already reached her chin and was only twelve; it was only a matter of time before she passed her. God knows where she'd inherited her long limbs from, but they were beautiful. This was her baby, her daughter.

"I don't know, baby. But dinner's almost ready; pork with vegetables, one of your favorites! And how about his—you don't have to help me set the table. Just clear your homework and I'll do the rest," Carol replied. The topic was quickly changed to avert any hysteria, but the slight quake in Carol's voice wore her façade down quickly. Sophia pursed her lips.

"It said don't go outside, and Daddy's outside."

"And we won't. Daddy's fine, he's just on the porch." _Dear God, please grant us the wish of Ed's dismay. Disappearance. Leaving us. Putting my baby out of harm's way, please, God_. "Now clean up and we'll get to eating as soon as he comes back." The ringing of the alarm echoed in her head—refugee centers. A deadly pandemic? Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary; however, Carol had only gone out, despite picking Sophia up from school, once in the past week, for groceries. They were running low already; Ed ate a lot and never redistributed.

"Alright!" Sophia exclaimed. Even her exclamatory statements weren't that loud. Her soft, mewling voice was sweet and never rose above an 'inside voice.'

"Good girl." Carol took the roast out of the boiler, reaching into the cabinets to grab some plates—ceramic, small designs of flowers drawn onto the border. A few cups of water, silverware, and they were good.

Sophia was zipping her notebook and pencil back into her blue backpack—her favorite color, with a few hearts embroidered onto the sides. She and Carol went shopping before school started, and Sophia had immediately grown a liking to the bag. Most girls her age adorned tote bags or even purses. Carol thought it was absurd for sixth graders to be carrying around purses instead of backpacks for their school supplies, but she didn't have a say in that.

Her mind drifted back to the emergency broadcast. Carol couldn't stop her heart from thumping twice its normal rate, her eyes drifting to the window situated above the sink. What was out there?

Her thoughts were jarred when the back door swung open, smacking the vanilla wall next to it. Ed clomped in, slammed the door behind him. He headed straight to the sink, shoes peeled off his feet and placed onto the counter. "Tell the goddamned neighbors to make their dog stop dropping its shit in our yard. Dead rabbits and god knows what else. Clean the shoes tonight; the yard tomorrow." The last statement was directed toward Carol, who nodded silently and placed another fork onto a napkin. She shot a glance to the boots; they were bloody. Sophia hadn't seen them, and wouldn't be anytime soon, hopefully.

"Reply when I tell you something," Ed spat, eyebrow cocked to Carol. Carol's eye diverted from his, but she still replied.

"I will."

"Good." And he sat at the table, noisily scooting in his chair. Sophia was already adjusted, twiddling with the knife in her long fingers. The utensil drummed against the wooden table, hollow 'thump thump thump' resounding in the kitchen. All it took was a stare from Ed for her to stop the rhythm. She apologized quietly.

Nobody talked during dinner. They simply sat and enjoyed their meals; Ed seemingly had forgotten the announcement from earlier, and if Sophia was nervous, she wasn't showing it. Yet, at least. The girl usually strung her emotions loose when Ed wasn't present. It wasn't uncommon for the Peletier family to eat in silence and revert back to their normal duties directly after dinner.

When everybody was finished, Carol began to take away the plates. Moving past Ed, she could smell the cigarette smoke lingering on his worn flannel shirt. The smell always gave her a headache; it was a blessing, really, that the two never kissed. The ashy residue and alcohol would turn her off anytime, even if it wasn't Ed.

Sophia went to bed early. For her, school involved waking up at six o'clock in the morning and sometimes helping Carol bake breakfast. Carol followed her up to her room: a quaint, white-walled space with a light purple lettering across the wall above her bed that read '_Sophia' _in cursive. She waited for her daughter to change and brush her teeth, turning on the fan in the corner of her room. Poor Sophia got the stuffiest room in the house, and during the wave of summer heat, it was always the worst.

"Ain't you gonna do my shoes?" Ed called from downstairs, his voice boisterous.

"I will," Carol replied. Sophia crawled into bed and Carol tucked her in. Night after night, it was a routine the two never missed. The sheets were all tonight, gently placed across Sophia's armpits. "Good night, Sophia. Love you." A kiss on the forehead.

"Night Mommy."

"Say your prayers."

"I will."

Carol flicked off the lights and squeezed the door closed, feet pattering on the woolen, clean carpet as she descended the stairs. Ed was back on his couch, feet reclined on the table in front of him. The remote was back in his hand, flicking through the channels. The beeping had stopped, but a fire truck red banner still flashed at the top reading the same information prior to dinner.

Ed's shoes were cleaned without a problem, blood scrubbed with a sponge and currently soaking in sink full of suds and warm water. Hopefully the stain would fade, or else…

Carol got tired of hiding the bruises when she went shopping. Powder wouldn't hide the bigger ones and they alarmed Sophia, too, who would go up to hug her around the neck and feel the throbbing lump of swollen skin.

But she allowed herself to a bit of relaxation; the house was cleaned, shoes were soaking, and it was too dark to clean the dead animals outside. Carol took note to do that before Sophia played in the grass and saw the decaying carcasses. She curled herself up onto the chair across from Ed, eyes flickering to the television screen. It illuminated the dark room with its screen, different shades of light dancing across Carol's skin. Ed had chosen the news station, intent, eyes squinted, and tongue poking out.

"_We have breaking news, as Atlanta has seemingly been plagued by this awful virus. The hospital is full of patients and the death tolls are rising. Symptoms of this strange virus include nausea, dizziness, high fever, and fragility of bones. If you or anyone you know are exhibiting these factors please contact the hospital but do not stray from a safely guarded house."_

The screen changed to another scene; a woman with curly blonde hair and heavily shadowed eyelids stood outside a connected house. The street was lit up by a few lights and on the small patch of lawn behind them. Carol could see the faux deer that were herded near the door. An elfin tricycle was also in sight. It made her squirm in her seat. A man with a wispy beard (more on his chin than head) and antique spectacles was talking to a woman interviewing him.

"_Tell me, Mr. Davies, what did you see?"_ Her voice appeared concerned, yet held a condescending tone.

"_I—I saw… y'all won't believe me."_

"_Continue, please, sir."_

"_I—I was just sittin', mindin' m'own and readin' the newspaper when my wife of forty years jus'—she jus' screams—a loud, earsplittin' scream. Th'next I know I she's in bleedin' in the carpet in front'a me an' she was out gettin' some food an' then there she is, bleedin' and cryin' and screamin' and I – "_ the man stopped. Carol had sat straighter in her chair, legs dangling over the edge of her seat.

"_She's at th'ospital right now."_

"_I'm sorry for your… problem, sir, I—WATCH OUT!_"

And the television just cut out. No warning, just abruptly ended. The warning banner that had been splayed at the top of the screen had covered all the space, same information read prior to dinner earlier scrolling down. Carol shoved her hand into a pocket in oversized pants, eyebrows drawn together. Her heart had started beating faster and she had an overwhelming desire to run upstairs and check on Sophia: just to make sure.

The long tones of the Emergency Broadcast system droned out Ed's curse.


	2. Chapter 2

**This will officially be at least three chapters long! :)**

* * *

It wasn't until Sophia was showered, dressed, and eating the next morning that the district announced there would be no school until the… situation blew over. Another early morning news story showed the fullness of the hospital and the overwhelming work the doctors and nurses were putting in. More strange cases were investigated, only to be either a) randomly cut to another scene or b) ending just as confused as the beginning. It seemed the broadcasters didn't really know what was going on, either.

Several stories, a rising death toll, and decreasing food supply led all three Peletiers to the final decision—they needed to go to the local Wal-Mart and store up on food. It had been four days since the 'outbreak', as Carol's radio had dubbed it, and they needed supplies.

Ed had decided. They were going to Atlanta; no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

And that's how Carol found herself, Sophia, and Ed driving ten minutes away in Ed's old Jeep Cherokee to the nearest Wal-Mart.

"Get to it and don't be slow," Ed murmured, announcing that he was staying in the car because it was their jobs to acquire the food.

Carol replied with another quiet, "I will," and they made their way to the store. She immediately picked up on the abundance of cars around her; many different types and colors were jammed into every available parking space in the lot. Carol grabbed Sophia's hand. Lately, the girl had been distancing herself, but allowed the movement with no protesting.

"Stay with me, baby, don't let go of my hand," Carol instructed Sophia. The automatic doors swung open and the usual stench of lobster and God knows what else filled Carol's nose. A sweaty tang was thrown in, and there was reason for that. Carol knit her eyebrows together and clutched Sophia's hand tighter. There were people _everywhere_. Long lines at the checkout, strolling down the aisle to toss enough of whatever they needed.

Carol seized the nearest grocery cart, allowing Sophia to roll the cart, Carol closely behind her. Sophia's eyes were wide, arms locked tightly onto the handlebar. Her knuckles were white and hands shaking. Carol put a comforting hand on the small of her daughter's back and said, "It's okay, Sophia, it's alright. We need some water, go to the drinks aisle." Sophia nodded so harshly her headband quaked under the strands of hair. She intertwined the cart through a maze of people, permanent anxiety painted onto her young features.

They managed to grab the last of the water bottles, toothpaste, and MREs. Carol picked up a whole cardboard box of the ready-to-eat food and shoved it among the other necessities in the cart. Other canned goods littered the cart, along with a handful and a half of nutrient bars. People had gone for those; it was mainly the canned goods that were empty. A few lay scattered across the shelving and Carol decided to leave them for other people. One is better than none, right?

In the end, they had squeezed past hoards of people to attain the following: MREs, water, toothpaste, canned foods and nutrient bars. A last minute grab had also included a small medical kit.

Sophia knew it wasn't a normal grocery store run—where were the carrots? The meats, the delicious cereals her mother bought her? But she didn't ask, she just pushed the cart between the other customers.

The line to check out was abnormally long and Carol's nerves starting kicking up about what Ed would do when she got back to the car; he'd told her to be fast but it was practically impossible with all these people. Sophia was teetering from foot to foot and went about reading all the labels on the MREs for fun.

"Meatball marina? Diced carrots and beef?" Oh, there are the carrots. "Mom, why are we getting these?" Sophia questioned, settling the small packs she had read into the cart.

Carol pursed her lips, unsure of how to answer the question. Her claustrophobia had started up, as her arms were trembling and she continuously played with the clips on her purse. She had opened her mouth to answer before a man clad in a jacket too thick for this weather and jeans snapped, storming and pushing past people with his basket. Carol drew Sophia against her, arms wrapped protectively around her middle.

The man shook his head as he clamored to the front and started yelling unintelligible things at the clerk, who looked equally terrified as the man's eyes gave away. The clerk shook his head profusely, spitting out the same words over and over, and the man punched him square in the jaw. Carol gasped.

"Mommy—"

"I know, Sophia, I know. Don't move. Stay with me."

Everybody went against Carol's rules to Sophia. The swarm of other agitated and restless consumers swamped the desks, the doors. Carol saw a woman who could only be the manager attempting to calm everybody down, but it was futile, as there were so many. The alarms near the door went out; people were leaving without paying and setting of the rhythmic 'ding!' that persisted imperceptibly. As more people pushed past the meek and well-mannered Peletier women for a mad dash to the door, Carol knew what she had to do.

She grabbed Sophia with one hand, cart in the other, and ambled to the doors. "Please God, please forgive me, please, _please _God forgive me for my sins…" Carol rambled as she pushed through the doors, cart and Sophia still in hand. The wheels were rusty, turning the wrong direction, but Carol drove and steered madly until she located their Jeep. The back window was quickly opened and the girls shoved their necessities in the back. People were starting to pull out around them. Carol ushered Sophia to her seat quickly and then to her own.

Ed was staring blankly at her. "I told you to be fast. You took half an hour. What part of 'fast' do you not understand? Stupid bitch…" the last part was whispered in disgust. Sophia diverted her eyes to the scene of other people rushing from the Wal-Mart in large groups. Even in the distance from the car to the store, she could hear screaming. Sophia curled her legs up on the cushion next to her, reverting back to a ball position. She sang softly to her.

"I'm sorry," Carol whispered. There was nothing else she could do; they got their supplies and, as Ed shook his head in annoyance, they were leaving the store. Carol shoved the prior events out of her head, out of mind, but not without one last prayer.

"_Dear God. I did something awful today: I stole. I broke a commandment, and admit it. Please forgive me. Amen._"

* * *

They planned to leave the next morning. Carol wandered to the basement's storage to excavate the old sleeping bags they'd never used and some travel bags. There were three—two larger gray ones and a smaller one. It was a deep blue color. Carol smiled.

She lugged them up with only two trips – something she was getting good at, hauling more things with only a few trips. It all was based around balance – and settled one of the bags in Sophia's room. Sophia was in there, staring longingly at one of her dolls. Carol knocked on the door before entering and it startled her daughter, who turned around with a small, sad grin.

"Mommy, will we ever see our house again?" Carol exhaled softly, sitting on the bed. She patted the mattress next to her and Sophia stood from her position on the floor and leaned into Carol's shoulder. She couldn't just lie, but she didn't want to frighten Sophia, either.

"Hopefully," Carol grinned down, kissing the crown of Sophia's head. Her hair smelled like shampoo, even from last night's bath. "God will do what's best, and I believe that we'll see our house again." Sophia nodded, eyes dozing back to her table. Small figurines of animals and dolls were situated carefully, staring right back at her. "We'll be safe.

"But you do need to pack!" Carol exclaimed, moving herself off the bed. "I need to do Daddy and my bags, but as soon as I finish, I'll come and help if you need it, alright, Sophia?" Sophia sniffed and nodded again. Carol took it as her cue to leave.

She hauled the other two bags to her and Ed's room – a large, open space with a few windows scattered on the wall left from the bed. The scarce amounts of light from the setting sun leaked in, creating patterns on the carpet and across the comforter. Carol rummaged through drawers of clothes; socks and coats and underwear were all thrown into their respective bags. She had no idea how long this would be, so four outfits were also folded neatly and placed into the duffels. Carol put Ed's glasses in there too, but she knew he wouldn't wear them even without the contact lenses.

The bags had started to acquire some weight, and Carol dragged them into the bathroom. The spacious bathroom was connected to the bedroom, only separated by closing doors. Two vanity mirrors and counters with sinks. Ed's was on the left, Carol's on the right. She packed away some mascara—just in case—and deodorant. Small cases of shampoo were also important, as were combs. All was pitched to the packs.

She brought the bags downstairs, this time two trips for two bags. It was dark outside, no more sunlight peeping in through the windows that were scattered across their house. Ed was asleep on his couch; she didn't wake him.

Carol wandered back up to Sophia's room, where she was found rummaging through her figurines on her desk. Carol peered in her bag; it only adorned her puppy pillow pet and a blanket. "Mommy, where do I put my animals and dolls?" Carol smirked. Her eyes were blanketed with a layer of grief.

"Sophia, darling, when I meant pack, I meant… clothes. Shampoo and toothpaste, love. We need the room for all the necessities, I'm sorry. You'll probably have room for at least one of your dolls, though." Sophia complied—that was one way Ed had impacted her. She always agreed.

"Come on, let's pack your bag."

The ringing phone woke Carol up.

She sighed, turned on her other side to check the clock. If her alarm hadn't gone off yet, it was before 5:30 am. She was proven correct as the red lights illuminated the time: 4:16 am. Who in God's name would be calling this early? Carol sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes, and rolled herself off the mattress. The phone was on Ed's side of the bed, but before she could set foot onto the carpet, Ed had answered the phone.

"What?" His voice was tired, gruff. Carol tucked herself back into bed, eyes drifting closed as the voice on the other end spoke. Ed didn't reply for a while, however, he did sit up, back rested against the wooden backboard.

"Yeah, we'll pick you up. Leavin' this mornin'—be ready by 6 or we'll leave ya. 'kay." And with that, the 'bing' of the phone hanging up and shuffle of Ed finding the station. Carol sat up with Ed, turning her head to look at him.

"Who was that?" she asked. She sounded sleep-deprived, her question trailing off at the end.

"Dad. We're pickin'im up. Some bastard stole all his fuel."

Now _that _got Carol's attention. The news stations had broadcasted many times the dangers of leaving the house unless traveling to a refugee center. "Don't you think that's a little… risky?" Carol questioned. She blinked a great deal of times. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness; she could hear pitters outside from animals, probably.

"I said, _we're pickin' him up._" Ed's tone had gotten deeper: a command. "What'd I say about talkin' back to me? You have no say in this. We're goin' to take him t'Atlanta with us." A hand snaked across the bed, heavily set across Carol's mandible. His grip was tight, fingers clenched uncomfortably at her jaw. "Got it?"

Carol nodded.

Ed's hand retracted and he simply went back to bed. Carol ran gentle fingers over the newly tender skin Ed had gripped. A sigh and her head was back against the pillow, drifting off until her alarm beeped and woke her with a start.

* * *

The car was jam-packed. The back was filled to the brim with the emergency supplies Carol had… taken from Wal-Mart just a day earlier. Sophia was squished against her seat, as the three duffle bags and another sac stocked with the food from their pantry were stored next to her. She was sleeping against the window, arm braced against the rest and head lolled to the side.

Their street looked like a nightmare, in all reality. Carol was glad Sophia was asleep. She didn't know _what _this virus was but it left cars abandoned in the middle of the street, garage doors wide open. Nobody was roaming the streets; no ladies walking with a child and dog, no toned men running with an iPod attached to their ear. Ed's father lived twenty minutes away—the opposite direction from Atlanta. Carol was still in dismay at the risk factor to save his dad. Not that Carol wouldn't do the same for her parents, but they lived so far away…

They had exited the neighborhood on a full tank of gas. Carol preferred to stare out the window, take in her surroundings, rather than talk to Ed. Her jaw had small red patches from his grip earlier that morning. No concealer to cover it up this time.

"_Dear God, please punish Ed for his harm. He laid another hurtful hand on me. What if he does the same to Sophia? He's never hit her before, not yet. Please don't allow that, she's so young…_"

They passed the hospital—the one the news casters had said was packed. The front looked normal as ever, just more cars parked outside in the lot. However, when they took a turn and viewed the backside, Carol's heart leapt in her throat.

Several military cars were parked on the lawn. Even through the window, Carol could smell the potent aroma of decayed flesh and rotting eggs. Layers of white packages lay on the floor; the smell gives it away. There were humans in the backyard of the hospital, decaying.

Carol turned her head.

"Holy shit," Ed gasped. Carol's eyes were torn from the horrid sight next to her, hoping and praying that Sophia wouldn't wake up, and looked directly in front of her.

A house was on fire.

The worst part? There weren't any fire trucks to be seen or heard. No policemen. The military, just next door, weren't doing anything to stop it. Carol could hear wailing coming from the depths of the house, a high pitched scream that hurt her head. A tricycle, humble and bright pink, was situated on the driveway. The tears came flowing and Ed floored it, staying as far away from the burning building as he could.

Carol wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks with a shaking finger, breathed to calm her. She craned her neck to check on Sophia. She was still asleep; the crackling fire and screaming hadn't woken her.

They arrived at Ed's father's house in half the time it would usually take. "Stay," Ed commanded Carol, who obliged. She didn't know if she could stand without faltering after the horrific scene they'd encountered. As Ed left the car to scout out his father, Carol rummaged through her purse for a mint to chew on. That'd help her nerves. The car was silent, save Sophia's gentle snoring and the crinkling of the wrapper. Carol popped the mint in her mouth, sucking on it aimlessly. She'd turn on the radio, but, as figured out in the past few days, all stations either stopped working or continuously replayed another FEMA announcement. Apparently the emergency outbreak had been officially considered a level 7 catastrophe.

That terrified Carol. For it to scale so high, it must be awful. Catastrophic. Irreversible. The stations in the previous days had started to talk about the dead rising from the graves, but that was illogical. Once you're dead, you stay dead. You either go to Heaven or Hell; you don't come back. Some people said it was the book of Revelation coming true. Carol's mind reversed to packing earlier. She'd stowed a Bible in there somewhere, and she remembered when she'd first read the book of Revelation. God would come for the believers and the seven seals would be opened. The horses would ride in and people would die.

If dead were truly rising, that's exactly what Carol pictured God to have in mind.

She nearly choked on her mint as a pounding echoed from Ed's side of the car. She'd assumed his father, Henry, was trying to get in on the side but since the doors were locked, he couldn't get in. Carol reached to Ed's dashboard and unlocked the doors. The banging continued. She rolled her window down and stuck her head outside.

"The door's unlocked."

But instead of the red-faced, persistently perspiring elderly Peletier man, Carol was met with a torn jaw, ripped jugular, and intestines. Through the blood and ligaments, Carol recognized the button nose and owlish eyes. She screamed.

The noise alerted the corpse of Henry Peletier and he groaned, circling the car to Carol's side. She bit down on her mint and tongue in surprise, shoving her head back inside the window. Henry was now at the front window; his whole mandible was missing, tongue hanging out like a slimy gummy worm. A large, gaping hole and blood spurting out replaced his throat, and his intestines poured onto the front of the car. Bloody saliva dribbled onto the window shield.

Carol's scream had also woken Sophia, who saw the _thing _climbing on her car, and promptly screamed. A futile attempt to choke back sobs only resulted in tears spilling out of Sophia's ducts at rapid pace. Her chest was heaving, throat closing on her.

"Sophia, get down!" her mother called to her. Carol was unbuckling herself from her seat and hopping over the gears to the driver's seat. Sophia, too, dispatched herself from the restraint and jammed her long limbs to fit on the floor of the car. She continued sobbing, huddled into a ball. "Don't look, baby, don't look!" And Sophia covered her eyes, ducking her head to the space between her legs and arms.

Carol was nearly petrified with fear. This… _thing_, there was no way in Hell it was Henry Peletier, was crawling on the hood, pounding on the glass with a bloody hand. It scraped the glass with trimmed fingernails, let out a deafening roar. Carol squeaked, ignoring the own tears that streamed down her cheeks. With spastic fingers, she tried to start the car. The keys kept missing the ignition hole because of her shaking; they finally fit in correctly after the third try and Carol quickly turned the car on. The thing on the shield continued pounding, spittle flying and blood glazing the window. Sophia was crying in the back.

"Sophia, cover your head!" And Carol rapidly switched from drive to reverse, drive to reverse. It was a systematic pattern in an attempt to shake the thing from her car. It lost its grip and flew off after the fourth round and landed on the concrete with a thud. Carol drove forward as fast as she could; a sickening crunch filled the air as the tires drove right over the cranium of Henry Peletier.

Carol broke down. The tears freely flowed, sobs wracking her thin frame. Sophia believed she was dreaming at first, torn between fiction and reality, but she peered above the median to look at her mother and knew she wasn't dreaming. Carol was shaking, head leaning against the steering wheel. The whole thing had happened in less than a minute but felt like it was playing in slow motion.

There's no way this was God's plan.


End file.
